


In, Out Of, Under

by ifitwasribald



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Manhandling, Orgasm Delay, Overstimulation, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Thor's arms, Bruce can let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In, Out Of, Under

**Author's Note:**

> Response to an avengerkink [prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=38279145#t38772713).

Bruce heard the cheap fabric of his shirt tear. Not generally a sound he relished, but, he reflected, context was everything. As the material fell in tatters around him, he trembled with anticipation.

Thor chuckled at his ear. “So eager,” he murmured.

Bruce couldn’t disagree. Thor’s hands ranged over him, divesting him of every shred of clothing with a few rough jerks of his fists. Bruce’s boxers fell on the floor, and almost before he could register that he was fully nude, Thor grasped both his legs and hauled him up, his back against the wall and his thighs splayed to either side of Thor’s hips.

Bruce’s head fell back, his eyes closing as he let the sensation of Thor’s absolute control wash over him.

And then Thor pulled away, just slightly, and made some adjustment that Bruce didn’t bother to parse, because the end result was the blunt tip of Thor’s cock just under his balls, nudging back, pressing up and almost into him.

A little thrill of fear coursed through him—unprepared, he was in no position to take a good hard thrust from anyone, let alone Thor, but at the same time he couldn’t help but want it. He struggled a little, pressing himself downward, and Thor groaned. “Do not tempt me.”

Bruce ignored that, didn’t stop, and felt the head of Thor’s cock push against him, not quite inside but so close and so good that he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on nothing but the delicious promise of that firm pressure.

Thor shifted Bruce in his arms, moving to trace the line of his neck with a surprisingly gentle finger. Even with just one hand, Thor held Bruce’s weight like it was nothing, and Bruce knew from experience that even if he struggled he wouldn’t be able to win free of Thor’s grip.

Not that he had the slightest desire to. Thor moved his newly freed hand down along Bruce’s body, pausing to take one nipple between thumb and forefinger and twist. Bruce gasped and tried to thrust himself against the firm planes of Thor’s body, and Thor hummed his appreciation. “There is nothing in all the nine realms like the way you come apart under my hands.”

The noise Bruce let out at that could only be described as a whine—high and tight and very good evidence that he was doing just as Thor described. And with any other person, in any other circumstance, that would be cause for fear, and shame. Because losing control was the one thing he could never allow himself. That had been true enough even before the incident, and after it he’d had no choice but to lock himself tight inside the armor of his self control.

But now, in Thor’s arms, he could let all of that go. Even if he changed—and he hadn’t yet, in all the times they’d done this—Thor would be safe, and could keep the Hulk from harming anyone else.

So when Thor’s fist closed around Bruce’s cock, Bruce could struggle and buck and gasp with no filter at all, no check on himself but Thor’s strong hands. That alone could have made him weep for joy, but the way Thor loved it—loved to grab him, take him, own his body with every commanding touch—it made his blood race and his every nerve cry out with want.

Thor moved his hand between them, up and down over Bruce's cock with rough strokes that ratcheted up his pleasure until he could hardly contain it He hadn’t wanted to come so soon, had wanted to make it last, but Thor clearly knew what he was doing, wanted to force an orgasm out of him with all possible speed, and Bruce really had no objection to that. He fought against it anyway, trying for a moment to draw it out and stave off his release, mostly because he knew he couldn’t and relished the way that Thor could wring the pleasure from him whatever he did.

His balls drew up tight and he trembled, hanging on the edge for a gorgeous, glorious moment, before everything rushed out of him, and he gasped against Thor's body. Thor’s hand didn’t stop its firm strokes until he’d spent himself entirely, and leaned forward to let his forehead rest on Thor’s broad shoulder.

He had only a moment to recover—far from enough to bring his thoughts or his breath under control—before he found himself flung onto the bed. Thor joined him an instant later, pressing down against Bruce's chest with one splayed hand, and Bruce couldn't help but laugh, because he barely had the ability to speak, let alone try to go anywhere. But Thor loved to remind him that he was in control, that Bruce was utterly at his mercy, whatever they did. Bruce felt a rich little thrill of pleasure surge through him at the thought.

Thor gave a throaty laugh, and then Bruce felt one thick finger teasing against his entrance. A little whimper passed his lips. He'd just come, and his cock lay soft and vulnerable at the crease of his thigh. He could feel the throb of his oversensitive nerves, and couldn't help but squirm away from Thor's touch. Thor paused a moment, and regarded Bruce with one raised eyebrow, inviting him to offer some objection.

But Bruce could find none, even when Thor pressed in and Bruce's whole body shivered, lost in the confusion of what felt like all his neurons firing at once, sending elaborate, urgent signals that he couldn’t even begin to untangle. And then the sensation shifted, turned harder and more insistent, stretching him with a gentle burn that made him arch up, legs trembling and toes seeking purchase against the sheets.

Thor’s hand didn’t move from Bruce’s sternum, tethering him to his body and allowing him to ride through the overstimulation until he could almost manage it, could concentrate on the delicious burn of Thor finger fucking him, hard and steady. “Fuck, Thor,” Bruce managed, and added a desperate “please,” even as he knew he couldn’t even begin to articulate what it was he wanted.

But Thor seemed to have an idea, shifting his rhythm until it hit Bruce just _there_. Stars burst in Bruce's head and he found himself struggling in earnest against the too-much pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him entirely. He tried to pull away, but Thor's hand on his chest held him down, secured him to the bed as surely as if he wore iron manacles. The idea of his safeword flashed through Bruce's mind, but he couldn't make himself say it. Couldn't make himself really want the feeling to end, even as he didn't know how much he could take.

Thor chuckled, his breath hot against Bruce's hip, and then firm lips sealed themselves around Bruce's half-hard cock and _sucked_. Bruce heard himself yell, surprise and pain and pleasure mixed together. He bucked again, but Thor's hand held, kept him there, hard against the bed, until pain and fear and surprise melted away and left only hot lust in their place.

Thor pulled off Bruce's cock with a soft little noise, and his fingers withdrew, giving one last stretch as they went. "I would take you now."

"Yes. Yes, god yes, now." Bruce might have continued the litany of agreement, but strong hands grasped him and flipped him over onto his stomach. A startled moan tore away from his throat, and he scrambled to bring legs forward under him, arching his back in shameless invitation.

Thor groaned at the sight, and however improbable Bruce found it that a man like Thor could want him like this, he couldn't mistake the raw desire in that sound.

And then he felt Thor's cock, hot and blunt and impossibly still, poised again on the verge of pushing in.

"Please," Bruce begged, any pretense of self control long gone. "Fuck, please, do it, fuck me. Please." When begging failed to produce results, Bruce pushed backwards, or tried to. Thor held him at both hips, and Bruce had no more power to move under that grip than he had to fly.

Thor gave a little hum of amusement at Bruce's efforts. "Still eager?" he asked, pushing against Bruce and almost, but still not quite, into him.

"Yes. Yes, fuck, please." Bruce honestly thought that he might sob if Thor waited much longer.

"As am I," Thor growled, and thrust.

Bruce thought he’d been beyond prepared, open enough to take Thor without even a little burn, but just like every other time, Thor’s cock stretched him wider than he expected.

Bruce's moan turned into a whine as Thor stopped short, inside Bruce but only barely. Thor chuckled at Bruce's little noises of complaint, and pulled out entirely before pushing in once more, again stopping far too soon.

Thor established a sharp little rhythm, breaching him every time, withdrawing just long enough for him to begin to close and then opening him up once more. It was maddening—an exquisite tease that left his legs shaking and his mind screaming his desire.

When Thor finally thrust all the way in, Bruce could barely hear his satisfied moan over the gasps and groans that spilled from his own throat.

He tried to angle his hips up to meet Thor's strokes, but as Thor began to pound into him in earnest, Bruce felt his position slipping. Thor fucked him brutally hard, his strength and desire overwhelming, astonishing, and intensely gratifying. Bruce quickly found himself flat against the bed, pinned by Thor’s body.

Thor didn’t slow, didn’t allow his rhythm to shift. He'd finally reached the point where he sought his own pleasure, desperately, blindly, and just the thought of it brought Bruce perilously close to the edge.

With Thor above him, strong arms on either side, Bruce could do nothing but take the gorgeous, brutal strokes. Almost nothing. He found the presence of mind to tense each time Thor bottomed out and began to pull back, grasping at Thor’s cock as it left him and relaxing to urge him in with every thrust.

“You are,” Thor managed, his voice harsh and breathless, “incredible.”

Bruce moaned at that and tried to keep up that rhythm, but everything felt too good. He writhed helplessly under Thor’s strokes as he hurtled towards his own climax, his voice turning higher, rawer, more urgent as he felt his whole self tighten in anticipation of release.

But Thor paused, his cock buried exquisitely deep within Bruce, to whisper in his ear. “You will wait until I’ve had my pleasure.”

Bruce moaned, and for an instant thought the words had had the opposite of their intended effect, because that rough command set off a sharp stab of lust that Bruce had no power to deny. But Thor’s hand slid between Bruce and the mattress, grasping the base of Bruce's cock as he resumed his thrusts.

Pleasure exploded through Bruce’s body at the touch, echoing through him but finding no release under that firm grip.

Thor groaned and quickened his pace, moving too fast now for Bruce to keep track. All he could feel was the power of Thor’s desire, the intensity of Thor’s pleasure in his body, and the urgency of his own need.

It passed beyond what Bruce thought he could take, and nearly into what he knew he couldn’t. He managed to gasp out a desperate “please,” and Thor gave a fierce groan of satisfaction and plunged into him one more time, throbbing and drawing great gasps of air.

Bruce squirmed beneath him, any concept of dignity long since abandoned, until Thor recovered himself enough to chuckle against his skin. “Now,” he whispered, and gave Bruce’s cock one hard stroke.

It was everything Bruce needed. Rich pleasure shuddered through him and he let himself sink into it. Thor collapsed onto him—not entirely, not enough to actually crush him with his full, improbable weight, but enough that to feel his body everywhere. Bruce felt trapped in the best possible way, secure and sated and so relaxed as to be just this side of unconscious. “Sogood,” he slurred. “You are… so good… to me.”

Bruce could feel Thor’s laugh. “Hardly altruism on my part.” He shifted away to lie on his side, facing Bruce, and used one hand to stroke the side of Bruce’s face and down his shoulder. “You are a glory to behold.”

Bruce snorted at that. “If you say so.”

“I do.” His smile held smug satisfaction, but behind it lurked affection that Bruce had only just begun to believe.

“You...” he reached out and let his fingers run over the impossibly perfect muscles of Thor’s arm, and let his hand drop down to the bed. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he mumbled, and let himself drift to sleep to the sound of Thor’s warm laughter.


End file.
